


Who's Afraid of Sergio Ramos?

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Atlético Madrid, Developing Friendships, El Clásico, FC Barcelona, Football | Soccer, Friendship, Gen, Gen Work, Real Madrid CF, Rivalry, Spanish National Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:58:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for my own prompt on the kinkmeme: http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/10208.html?thread=5902048<br/>"Someone on Spain's national team lets it slip to Ramos that Messi is genuinely afraid of him. This doesn't sit well with Ramos."</p><p>------------------------------------------<br/>Sergio, in the act of imitating a dive by one of their opponents, falls backwards out of his chair and crashes into the lamp on the bedside table. Andrés jerks awake, knocking Cesc's phone out of his hands, and Xavi and Iker burst out laughing. Sergio's rolling on the floor in an attempt to right himself, and the lamp, when he hears Gerard talking in the midst of all the laughter.</p><p>"Can you believe Leo's afraid of this guy?" </p><p>Sergio manages to get to his feet. He brushes imaginary dust off of his shirt and pants, attempting to save some of his dignity.</p><p>The lamp is a lost cause.</p><p>But those words echo in his head. "What did you say?" he asks, directing the question over towards where Gerard is sitting nursing a bottle of beer. He's sure he must have heard wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's Afraid of Sergio Ramos?

**Author's Note:**

> I go back and forth on how I feel about Sergio Ramos. Before I began writing in this fandom, I absolutely could not stand him. But somehow he's turned out to be a nice guy in some of my stories. And I've been writing this for awhile, but I figured I'd better post it before the next clásico and I change my mind again :)

Piqué's the one who lets it slip. 

It's while a bunch of them are celebrating Spain's most recent win in Sergio and Iker's hotel room. Or rather, they *were* celebrating. It's been a few hours, and the celebration is finally dying down. It was quite the party, as evidenced by the amount of empty bottles scattered throughout the hotel room. Mostly everyone has wandered back to their rooms, and only a few people remain.

Xavi and Iker have their heads together as they sit in two armchairs in the corner. Andrés is sprawled on the bed, dozing lightly, while Cesc leans against the headboard, texting. Gerard sits in a chair with his feet up on the windowsill. Sergio's been bouncing around the room, hugging Iker and poking Xavi and stealing Cesc's phone, but has finally settled into a chair on the other side of the bed. He and Gerard are cracking up as they remember the game. 

It's nice sitting like this sometimes--easy to forget that their club teams are all rivals.

Sergio, in the act of imitating a dive by one of their opponents, falls backwards out of his chair and crashes into the lamp on the bedside table. Andrés jerks awake, knocking Cesc's phone out of his hands, and Xavi and Iker burst out laughing. Sergio's rolling on the floor in an attempt to right himself, and the lamp, when he hears Gerard talking in the midst of all the laughter.

"Can you believe Leo's afraid of this guy?" 

Sergio manages to get to his feet. He brushes imaginary dust off of his shirt and pants, attempting to save some of his dignity.

The lamp is a lost cause.

But those words echo in his head. "What did you say?" he asks, directing the question over towards where Gerard is sitting nursing a bottle of beer. He's sure he must have heard wrong.

The other man squints at him. "What?" he asks, scratching his head. "Oh, I just can't believe anyone could be afraid of you." He grins. "I mean, have you seen yourself?" He laughs, waving an arm in the air. "Of course, you really did a number on that lamp!" 

"Did you say Leo's afraid of me?" Sergio still can't believe what he's hearing. "Leo Messi? Is afraid of me?" 

On the bed, Andrés sits up. "Geri!" he says, eyes widening. Iker and Xavi have gone silent, and Gerard's laughter slowly drains away.

"I probably shouldn't have said that," Gerard says, brows furrowing, as he looks over at Andrés and then Xavi. "He's not really. I mean," he stops, not sure how to take back what he's said. "Ah, fuck." 

Cesc lets out a long sigh.

Xavi is shaking his head. He looks disappointed. "I think we should go," he says, standing up. "Clearly some of us have had too much to drink." He gestures towards Andrés, Cesc, and Gerard, signaling that the party has definitely come to an end. 

Iker stands too, grabbing Xavi by the arm, looking as confused as Sergio.

Gerard puts his drink down and quickly stumbles towards the door with Andrés under his arm. Cesc waves halfheartedly and follows them. They slip out while Sergio watches, open mouthed. 

Xavi whispers furiously with Iker for a few moments. Sergio can't hear them, but Xavi finally snaps. "Well what do you expect, Iker?!" He rakes a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Every time Sergio goes near him it's to take his legs out or throw him to the ground!" He shakes his head. "You know what, this is a discussion for another day. I'm going to bed." He tosses a terse "goodnight" over his head as he storms out.

Iker watches him go, and flinches when the door slams shut. He turns to Sergio. "He has a point."

Sergio still can't process it. Nobody's ever been afraid of him before. He's the life of the party--the prankster--the lovable idiot... everyone always says so! *That's* what he's known for.

Iker claps him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it," he says. He yawns and stretches, before turning to head into the bathroom. "I'm gonna get ready for bed," he says, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Okay," Sergio says, distractedly. He falls back on the bed, his thoughts racing. 

Sure he's tackled Messi a few times before. 

But that's his job as a defender--to stop Messi every once in awhile and if that means tackling him a few times then that's what Sergio does. 

Okay, so, he's tackled Leo more than just a few times. 

And sometimes roughly. 

And Sergio knows that sometimes... he's hurt Leo badly... 

No matter what, though, he never intended to actually *injure* Leo. Did he?

No. It rubs him the wrong way. To think that Messi--or anyone for that matter--is genuinely afraid of him.

Thinking back on instances when they were at the same awards or dinners, he realizes that Leo never said one word to him that wasn't absolutely necessary. Sergio had just assumed it was because they weren't friends... Not that there was a deeper reason behind it.

He can't fall asleep like this. 

He grabs his key and phone and opens the door to look out in the hallway. Thankfully it's empty. He steps outside and takes a deep breath.

He needs to talk to somebody... somebody who will understand.

He calls Cris.

"Congrats on the win," Cristiano says, and Sergio can hear him smiling into the phone. "It's gotta be late there, though? Still celebrating? I hope you gave Iker a big kiss after that last minute save!" Sergio can hear the sound of clinking and running water in the background, and surmises that Cris is doing the dishes.

"Of course, of course," Sergio says, laughing. "He really tore us a new one for letting that shot get through. But Xavi got a few drinks into him tonight. You know how those two are." He clears his throat. "Listen, Cris," he says, before stopping abruptly.

The sound of running water cuts off. "What is it?" Cristiano asks sharply. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Sergio says. "I mean, everything's fine." He paces around nervously. "I, just... I need to ask you something."

"You can ask me anything, Sergio," Cristiano says slowly, clearly confused and still a bit worried.

"Okay," Sergio says. "When you're playing. Are you--are you... ever afraid... of other players on the pitch?" 

Cristiano is silent, barely breathing into the phone. "Do I act like I'm afraid?" he finally asks.

Sergio shuts his eyes. "You don't act like you're afraid, but that doesn't mean you aren't." 

Cristiano laughs quietly. "Why are you asking, Sergio?" There's the sound of footsteps and then a door closing. "What's this really about?"

Sergio slumps against the wall. "Can you answer me first?" He exhales. "I just... I want to know." 

"Then... honestly... yes," Cristiano says. His voice is hushed. "I try not to show it. Of course I try not to show it." He clears his throat. "But there are players out there gunning for me. Players who want to take me out--to hurt me... Certain people don't play the ball." He swallows hard. "They do it on purpose. They go for my ankles, my knees... All the time. Every time." 

Sergio can't speak. He slides down to sit on the ground, back against the wall.

Cristiano says softly, "Yes... I'm most definitely afraid of certain players. I hate them."

Sergio holds his head in his hands. "Thank you for telling me," he says quietly. "I mean I knew there were some guys going for you... but not that you were seriously afraid of them." He stares at the ground, willing it to swallow him up. "I didn't really think it was that bad. Are you... are you afraid of them off the pitch too?"

"Can you-- can you tell me why you asked?" Cris eventually asks. 

"Those people," Sergio says, "those people that you're afraid of... I found out that to Leo Messi, I'm one of those people." He bites his lip, distraught.

Cristiano takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Why do you think that?" he asks.

Sergio runs a finger over a swirl in the carpet. "Piqué let something slip," he says sullenly. "And then Xavi got mad about it and said I take Leo out all the time and what did I expect." He sighs. "Even Iker said they had a point."

Cristiano is quiet. "And you're upset about this?"

"Yes!" exclaims Sergio. He coughs, looking around before lowering his voice. "Yes, I'm upset. I'm not like that," he says. "I'm not like those players who try to *hurt* you... I'm physical, but I go for the ball. And yes, sometimes I have to go for the player. And I do. But it's... I don't deliberately try to injure anyone. I wouldn't--I couldn't do that to anybody." 

"I know you couldn't," Cristiano says. "I know you're not like that." 

"But, you said there are players like that. And I don't want to be thought of as one of them." Sergio's voice cracks. "Do you really think Leo is right to be afraid of me? Do you think he hates me?"

Cris mutters something in Portuguese. "Sergio," he says, "you're a tremendous athlete. One of the best defenders in the world. And I won't lie to you. Sometimes you hit him pretty hard... The truth is you're nothing like the players I'm talking about, and the fact that you're even bothered by this proves you're not, but... I can see how Leo might think you are."

"So what are you saying?" asks Sergio. He picks at a loose thread and winds it around his finger.

Cristiano sighs. "I'm saying that there are a lot of people out to get him." He huffs. "He's too good. I know that. You know that," he says grudgingly. "They can't contain him, so they take him down. And he's wary. He's scared. He needs to be... He's up against the same players that I am. Any one of those tackles could end his career. But he shouldn't be afraid of you, and if you really believe he is--if you really believe he thinks you're that type of player, a dirty player--then maybe you should talk to him."

Sergio snorts. "Right," he says. "I'm just going to show up on his doorstep and say 'Hey Leo! How's it going?'" He shakes his head. "I won't even get past the front gate."

Cristiano groans. "Sergio," he says. "Half your team plays for Barcelona. Grab somebody and go talk to him. Otherwise this is going to bother you forever." He laughs. "I promise you Leo doesn't bite. The worst thing that could happen is he closes the door in your face, but that's why you bring somebody with you."

Sergio smiles. "Piqué it is," he says. "I'm pretty sure he's going to feel very guilty in the morning. I can use that to my advantage."

"I'm glad," Cristiano says. "Are we good?" 

"Yes," says Sergio, suddenly feeling a lot better. He pauses. "Thank you, Cris."

"No problem," says Cristiano. "You can always talk to me."

"I know," says Sergio. "I appreciate it. I'll let you know how it goes." He looks at his watch. "Shit is that the time? The plane back is really early tomorrow so I'd better turn in."

"Goodnight then," says Cristiano. "See you soon."

"Goodnight," Sergio echoes before ending the call.

He stays sitting quietly on the floor for a few moments longer before gradually getting to his feet. Iker's snoring greets him as he renters the room. He strips down to his boxers and carefully climbs into bed. 

He stares at the ceiling as his eyelids grow heavy. "I guess I'm going to Barcelona."

 

\--------------------------

"Listen," Gerard says, holding onto him for a second. "Before we get out. Let me just set your mind at ease here--Leo will be utterly polite, no matter what. That's just how he is, and no matter how unhappy he is to see you, he's not going to make a fuss." He takes a deep breath and lets go of Sergio. "The other thing is, he's honest." He stares hard at Sergio. "Sometimes he says too much to the wrong people. So don't take advantage of that, okay?"

"How would I take advantage of that?" Sergio asks. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

Gerard snorts. "Your best behavior?" He gets out of the car and starts walking up the front walk. Sergio quickly follows him. He trips on a loose stone and almost crashes onto Messi's perfectly manicured lawn, but catches himself at the last minute.

Gerard ignores him. "Just don't go back to Madrid and talk about things Leo told you in confidence, okay? That's it," Gerard says. "I don't want to hear that anybody was laughing about this."

"I won't," Sergio says, miffed. "I just want to fix things," he says, frowning. "I'm not going to gossip about this. Do you think I'm a bad person too?"

Gerard stops and turns around. "I know you're not. And that's why we're here," he says, hugging Sergio. "I'm sorry. I just feel bad that I said anything in the first place. It wasn't my business... But maybe you can fix things." He claps Sergio on the shoulder. "Okay, let's do this."

The two of them stop at the front door and Sergio walks over to the side to ring the bell. They don't wait long before the door opens and Lionel Messi stands there. He's dressed casually in a white t-shirt and gray Adidas sweatpants.

Sergio watches as Leo greets Piqué, a huge smile stretching across the smaller man's face as he loops his arms around Gerard and hugs him tightly. "Geri! What are you doing here? Congrats on the win!" A chubby, little toddler hugs Leo's leg and stares up in wonder. "Thiago, look who came to visit us!" Leo says, letting go of Gerard and resting his hand on the little boy's head.

Gerard smiles down at Thiago, pinching his cheek as the child comes out from behind Leo's leg to gape at him. He turns back to Leo. "Listen Leo, I brought somebody with me, actually." He gestures to where Sergio is standing off to the side. "You know Sergio, of course?"

Sergio steps forward. "Hey Leo," he greets, waggling his fingers. He drops his hand seeing Leo's reaction.

Leo's face freezes. "I saw you had somebody in the car with you," he says. His grin fades into a polite smile--one Sergio recognizes from interviews and is clearly only for show. And Sergio keeps smiling, because surely that's not Leo being afraid of him. It's just Leo disliking him, and Sergio can deal with that. 

But then comes the most telling sign of Leo's displeasure... and it really hits Sergio right in the gut. 

Leo actually pulls Thiago back behind his leg, shielding the child from view. He holds him there, eyeing Sergio nervously, as the little boy whines. "But yes, of course I know Sergio," he says nodding politely, though all of the warmth has left his voice. 

And Sergio can't keep smiling anymore, because never in a million years would he hurt a child and the fact that Leo is so threatened off of the pitch and thinks he would is just devastating. His face crumbles and he looks toward Gerard. 

Gerard claps Leo on the shoulder. "I thought maybe we could have lunch," he says, regaining Leo's attention. Sergio watches as Leo looks back at his friend. The two of them have a silent conversation which involves Leo raising his eyebrows and Gerard making a pleading expression and widening his eyes. 

Leo looks confused, eyeing Sergio warily. "Okay," he finally says, taking Thiago by the hand as the little boy squirms behind him and tries to climb on top of Leo's sneakers.

"Papi," Thiago admonishes, grabbing Leo's shirt with his free hand. The toddler scrunches his face up and his lip wobbles. Leo's real smile blooms again as he reaches down and pulls the little boy to rest on his hip. He cuddles him close and kisses his cheek.

"Ahh ahh," Gerard says, laughing. "They always get their way, don't they?" He runs a hand through Thiago's hair. "Milan is the same," he confides to them, before turning to Sergio and winks. "Yours probably isn't talking much yet, hmm?"

Leo turns to Sergio, smile subdued again, but there's a flicker of interest in his eyes. "You had a child?" he asks, rubbing Thiago's back. "I didn't know. Congratulations." His voice thaws a little. "Boy or girl?"

"Boy," Sergio says, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. "Born in May." It makes sense that Leo wouldn't know. They aren't friends, and really all of them were busy preparing for the World Cup. Sergio pulls his phone out and after a brief hesitation, steps closer to show Leo his background. 

Leo doesn't move away, and he doesn't seem to hold Thiago any tighter, so Sergio counts it as a small victory. "He's beautiful," Leo says, upon seeing the picture, and his true smile reappears on his face.

Thiago cranes his neck, interested, and Sergio isn't sure if it's in the phone or the picture of his son but he leans closer into Leo's space to show him. The child reaches for the phone with his fingers, and Sergio would have given him it, but Leo is quick to grab Thiago's hand. "No, no nene," he murmurs. "We just look with our eyes, hmm?" He kisses his son's palm, stiffening as he notices just how close Sergio has gotten.

Before Leo can say or do anything else, Gerard slings an arm around Sergio. "So, shall we?" he asks, tapping Thiago and then Leo on the nose to the delight of the child. Thiago giggles and Leo makes a face at Gerard.

Leo looks uncertain for a moment, shifting Thiago's weight a little. "If you don't mind, maybe we can eat here?" He looks at Gerard questioningly before flitting his eyes over towards Sergio. "Thiago needs to take his n-a-p," he says bouncing the baby. "But we have plenty of food and we could eat out by the pool." 

"That sounds great," Gerard says. Sergio nods in agreement and the two of them follow Leo inside. Thiago watches them from over Leo's shoulder, rubbing a fist against his eyes before ducking his head and hiding it in Leo's neck. 

Sergio trails behind the others as Leo leads them into the kitchen. He's still not sure how this is going to work, or how he's going to bring up the subject. While his thoughts race, he accidentally bangs into a rocking horse in the hallway. He rubs his knee ruefully, hoping that nobody heard him. When he finally enters the kitchen it's to hushed whispers that end as soon as he enters. Leo is staring at Gerard, frowning, but he shakes his head and starts pulling out numerous bowls from the fridge.

Gerard scratches his beard and smiles reassuringly at Sergio. "I want some real Spanish food," the taller man says to Leo. "Not any of that crap you tried to feed me last time."

Leo ignores him, and hoists Thiago a little higher up on his hip. "Guess you shouldn't keep coming over here then," he says, bending down to grab a tray from a lower cabinet.

Gerard splutters a little. "Terrible service here," he says to Sergio. He turns back and starts making faces at Thiago while stretching his arms out in the toddler's direction.

Leo catches him at it. "Geri!" he exclaims. "Don't rile him all up." Thiago proves unamused though, and grabs at Leo's shirt tearfully instead of reaching for Gerard. Once everything is on the tray, he gestures towards Gerard. "Be useful and take this out. I'll be right there."

After Leo disappears down the hall, presumably to put Thiago down for his nap, it's Sergio's turn to have a whispered conversation with Gerard. "This was a mistake," he says, shaking his head. "We shouldn't have come. I was wrong, I can't fix this."

Piqué ignores him and starts gathering the food. "He let you in," he says. "That's half the battle." He starts walking towards the back door. "Come on."

Sergio follows, scuffing his feet. He walks quicker when he hears Leo's footsteps, and is next to Gerard once Leo appears in the doorway. The three of them sit down at a picnic table, with Gerard and Leo on one side and Sergio on the other. Sergio tries not to feel dissuaded by Leo's clear attempts to avoid sitting next to him.

It feels like they eat quickly, with both Sergio and Gerard starving after the flight and drive to Leo's house. Though, really it takes quite some time to consume the spread Leo has provided for them. Leo eats slowly, more often than not so his mouth is full and he doesn't have to participate in the conversation. Gerard doesn't seem to mind, continuously telling stories about the Spanish team or Shakira or what he's going to do for vacation, making Sergio wonder just how much Leo normally talks. 

Sergio tries to draw Leo in, asking questions about his break, and Argentina, and about the food he's eating. He tries talking about music and TV, about fashion... really about anything he can think of.

Leo is mostly monosyllabic. He's still clearly not sure why Sergio is here, and keeps looking over at Gerard as if the other man will suddenly tell him.

Once they've eaten everything on the table, Gerard suggests they dip their feet in the pool. "It's so warm out today," he says, wiping his brow. "Can't believe we're having a heat wave so late." He and Sergio are wearing shorts, but still feeling the heat. Leo looks unruffled even though he's wearing sweats. "Shak and I are thinking about getting a pool, you know," he confides as they stand up and walk a few feet to the edge of the water. 

"Maybe not until Milan is a little older," Leo suggests as he shuffles behind Sergio and Gerard.

Sergio sits down and kicks off his sandals before dropping his feet into the water. One of them falls into the pool but he's quick to fish it out before it floats away. He kicks his feet in the water. Gerard was right, it feels fantastic.

Gerard all of a sudden says, "Ah sorry guys." He pulls his phone out of his pocket. "I just remembered I was supposed to call Shak when I got here. She'll be worried." He gestures toward the house. "You don't mind, do you?" he asks, already walking away back towards they came.

Sergio panics for a second, realizing that he's being left alone with Leo. But Leo just nods at Gerard's back and then turns back to Sergio. The smaller man wavers for a moment before shrugging.

Leo kicks off his shoes gingerly, and Sergio is surprised to see that there are toes taped up on both feet. Three on the left and two on the right to be exact. The left ankle is also taped up, the white medical tape almost the same color as Leo's skin. 

Then Leo bends down and rolls his sweatpants up to his knees. Sergio can't help hissing. Leo's legs look like they're painted black and blue. Dark splotches appear all up and down his shins and calves. Here and there, purple marks are fading into green as the bruised skin slowly begins to heal. But the darker colors are far more common than the light ones. A couple of them are clearly stud marks--accompanied by scabbed over scratches.

"What happened?" Sergio asks, wondering how rough the training sessions at Barcelona were earlier in the week. They must have been doing full speed tackling drills. Sergio's own legs have one or two bruises after his last game, but nothing like Leo's.

Leo blinks at him. He sits down and lowers his legs into the water, either forgetting that he's taped up or simply not caring that he'll have to redo it. "What do you mean?" he asks, not understanding Sergio's question.

Sergio gestures to where Leo's legs are dangling in the pool. "Your legs! They look terrible. What happened?"

Leo looks blankly down into the water and then back at Sergio. "It's mostly from Sunday, I guess." He purses his lips. "You know, Atlético," he says, leaning back on his hands. "Some are older." He closes his eyes and tilts his face up towards the sun.

Sergio inhales sharply. "Is that--do your legs look like this after every game?" Sergio asks. His conversation with Cris is still fresh in his mind. 

Though he's never seen Cris' legs like this. 

A neutral expression settles over Leo's face. "Not every game," Leo says. He looks back over his shoulder, clearly wondering where Piqué is. When the defender doesn't appear, Leo huffs in frustration.

Sergio takes a deep breath. "And after you play against Real? Against me?" he asks. "Is this what they look like?"

Leo doesn't answer right away. He stares down into the water, moving his feet slightly and watching the waves that ripple across the surface. His hands shift on the concrete, fingers twitching. "Sometimes," he finally says, still focused on the water. As the silence grows between them, he sighs. "Most of the time," he says, correcting himself.

Sergio frowns. He remembers his conversation with Gerard about Leo's honesty, and wonders how much Leo will really tell him. "Leo, are you afraid of me?" he finally asks, bluntly.

Leo keeps looking at the water. His feet have stopped moving underneath. "Why would you think that?" he asks, dully. 

"Piqué said something," Sergio says. 

Leo rolls his eyes. "Geri," he says, disappointed, shaking his head. His fingers draw shapes aimlessly on the concrete.

He still doesn't answer Sergio.

Sergio presses on. "Xavi said he was right." He scratches his head, wondering if he should tell Leo about his phone conversation. He decides it can't hurt. "And I talked to Cris."

Leo looks at him, startled. "Cristiano? What does he know about it?" His legs start kicking in the water again.

Sergio clears his throat. "I called him--to ask if he was ever afraid of other players."

Leo's dark eyes narrow. "And what did he say?"

"He said yes," Sergio says, dipping his hand in the pool and wiggling his fingers around.

Leo turns back to the water, exhaling slowly. If he was angry at the mention of Cristiano, his displeasure has faded. "He should be," he says.

"He is," Sergio confirms again. "He says--he says sometimes players try to hurt him on purpose." Sergio's voice wavers and he can't help blurting the whole thing out. "And I mean, I knew that, but I don't want you to think I'm like that. I'm a nice guy. I promise I'm a nice guy." He clenches his hands into fists. "I'm not mean... Or violent... But do you think that? Think I'm like that? I don't want you to hate me." He's babbling. And he knows he's babbling but he can't stop.

Leo's eyes study Sergio intently, looking for something. He sighs, raising his legs out of the pool and turning to face the other man. He rests his folded arms on his knees before he props his chin on top of them. Water drips slowly down his legs, creating little puddles around his feet.

Sergio can't help staring at his legs. The bruises are stark against the pale skin. On legs that are worth millions and millions of dollars. 

Sergio wonders if the pain is worth it.

Leo smiles at him. It's that fake, polite smile again. His eyes squint a little in the bright sunshine. "And if I said that yes, I'm afraid of you? What then?" He looks away from Sergio and reaches down to pick at the tape around one of his toes, almost nonchalantly. 

As if he hadn't care in the world. 

As if being afraid of someone is perfectly normal in his profession. 

And as if nothing will ever change.

Sergio doesn't know what to say. He never really expected Leo to admit it, let alone planned what he would say in response. Sergio runs a hand through his hair nervously. Then he does it again, stalling.

Leo doesn't press him for an answer. He starts to take the tape off of the toe he was fiddling with. When it's off, the toe is revealed to be bruised as well as crooked. 

Probably broken. 

Sergio is no longer surprised.

He curls his own toes in sympathy. "I," he finally says, "would try to change your mind. About me." He pulls his own legs out of the water and mirrors Leo's position. It only makes the difference between his legs and Leo's even more obvious.

Leo starts pulling the tape off another one of his toes. He unwinds the tape slowly, revealing more black and blue. He fingers the toe gently, before looking up at Sergio. His head tilts to the side. "And that's why you're here?" he asks. It's more of a statement than a question.

"Yes," Sergio says, meeting his gaze. He taps his fingers on the concrete impatiently. "I'm going to make you like me... I made Iker like me, you know. And he hates almost everyone." He fiddles with one of sandals and accidentally knocks it in the water again. He lifts it out and places it carefully next to its mate before deliberately folding his hands on his knees to avoid any more mishaps.

Leo's lips turn up slightly. "You can certainly try," he says. He crumples the tape in his hand. His eyes are still guarded, and he's about to say something else when Piqué come skipping out into the backyard.

"Look who's up from his nap!" Gerard says loudly as Thiago trots out behind him. The little boy is dragging a blanket and rubbing his eyes.

"Geri," Leo says sternly. "Did you wake him up or did he wake up by himself?" He sighs, already knowing the answer. "He'll never sleep tonight. I'll be sure to mention to Anto whose fault that is."

Gerard shrugs, smiling broadly as he sits down on the concrete next to Leo and starts to take his shoes off. "Oh come on, Leo. He's fine."

As if to completely prove Gerard wrong, Thiago, his movements still clumsy after being awakened so recently, chooses that moment to trip over his blanket. He lands on his hands and knees and whines pitifully.

Leo drops the tape he's holding and scrambles up. 

But Sergio gets there first.

He's not sure if his reflexes have improved since his son was born, but hearing any crying baby gets him up in a flash. He crouches in front of Thiago and lifts him onto his feet gently. "There there, niño. You're okay," he says softly, brushing the toddler's hands off and smiling at him.

Thiago stares at him with tears welled up in his eyes, but he cracks a smile in return. He holds onto Sergio's large hands, fascinated by the shiny rings decorating them, and starts playing with one of them.

Sergio looks back over his shoulder and realizes Leo is standing right behind him. Hovering. "Ummmm," Sergio says. "Sorry, I just--." Behind Leo's back, Sergio can see Gerard giving him a thumbs up. 

Leo cuts him off, waving. "It's fine," he says. His fingers twitch, though, and he reaches for his son. "I'll take him," he says expectantly, but genuinely smiles when Sergio hands him over. A full smile this time--dimples and everything.

Sergio will take it. 

He can't stop his own grin from appearing in response. Because while maybe he and Leo aren't friends (yet, that is), things have definitely changed since they met at the front door. And Sergio is sure he can win Leo over.

He picks up Thiago's blanket and holds it out tongue little boy who accepts it gratefully. Leo nods in thanks, that soft smile still on his face.

Yes.

It's only a matter of time.

 

\-----------------------------

In March, Barcelona and Real Madrid line up on the field, ready to play once more. The crowd roars, and confetti flies everywhere as the announcer shouts that it's time to start.

Sergio can't stand still as he and his teammates start moving to shake hands with Barcelona. They move quickly, and Xavi hugs him roughly while Jordi slaps his shoulder and Gerard clasps his hand. It's all a blur. But when he gets to Leo, Sergio stops. He knows he's holding up the line, and behind him Cris is muttering something, but he can't move.

Leo looks at him, surprised. His eyes meet Sergio's before flicking over Sergio's shoulder towards Cristiano's. Then he looks back at Sergio and smiles. And it's not one of his fake smiles. He reaches slowly, tentatively towards Sergio, as if unsure of his own actions. But then he wraps his arms around Sergio and hugs him.

Sergio can help grinning as his own arms come up to wrap around Leo and squeeze. He knows most of his teammates are staring at them in shock, but he doesn't care. 

Finally Leo lets go, and Sergio drops his arms. "Good luck, Sergio," Leo says softly, still smiling.

Sergio just nods, too overjoyed to return the sentiment, eventually moving when Cris pokes him in the back. He heads off for the team picture and behind him he can hear Cris say something quietly to Leo and Leo laugh in response.

But Sergio still doesn't care. 

Because he was right. 

Nobody can be afraid of him once they get to know him.


End file.
